My feet froze on the sidewalk of their own accord, planted like a statue even as Easton whined and yanked on his leash. Rhett was on the other side of the glass, sitting in a booth across from Janice and Frank, completely unsuspecting as I stared from the dim street.
Rachel followed my eyeline. “Who isthat?”
A head of glossy, honey-colored hair leaned on his shoulder. Something hot and sour washed over me. The answer couldn’t be more obvious.
“That’s Claire.”
Chapter Fourteen
The bell above the cafe’s door jingled with the usual cheer, but the moment I stepped inside, it fell flat. Conversations dimmed, fork tines clinked against ceramic, and a half-dozen pairs of eyes flicked toward me before darting away.
I told myself I imagined it. My hair refused to behave this morning. Maybe I forgot to button my shirt all the way. But when I slipped onto a stool at the counter, a pair of women in the table behind me leaned in and whispered loudly.
“-saw them at the diner last night. Had her head on his shoulder.”
“...poor girl.”
My stomach dipped as if I’d been yanked up a roller coaster; I silently cursed my impeccable hearing.
Rhett and Claire. Why did they think it would matter to me? Was I that obvious? My reflection in the chrome napkin holder only proved their point.
Rachel swooped in with a mug before I could plaster on an unbothered smile. She slid it to me without asking, her permanent marker perched behind her ear. “I figured you might want it hot this morning. It’s a little cooler out.”
“You didn’t have to.”
She raised a brow—clearly unconvinced. I curled my fingers around the mug, steam and sugar temporarily fogging my thoughts.
“Thanks,” I added quietly, staring at the heart-shaped foam. Rachel’s frown deepened as I hunched until my chin nearly hit the counter, wishing I could melt into the tile. But the whispers continued to swirl.
“Fiancée, I heard.”
“Came all this way for him—”
“Perfect together, don’t you think?”
Caffeine. I just needed chocolate-flavored caffeine. That would fix this.
Margot slid into the seat beside me a moment later, sunglasses perched on her head. “Hey, Rachel. Mind if I grab a cortado from you?” she said before swiveling to me. “You look like you’re about to be sick. Should I be worried about my new shoes?”
“People are…talking.”
She propped an elbow on the counter, chin in her palm. “It’s Bluebell Cove, Georgie. They should have named it Gossip’s Harbor.”
“Margot—”
Her lips twitched. “Alright, fine. It’s about Rhett and Claire, isn’t it?”
That was it. I needed to dunk my head in my latte and never come out.
“Thought so.” She tapped her nails against the counter and sighed. “You know, you could save yourself a lot of misery if you just—oh, I don’t know—admitted you havefeelingsfor him.”
“I don’t.” The words tumbled out fast and entirely unconvincing to even me.
“Mmhm. And I don’t shop online when I want to avoid talking to my mother.”
“This appeal for honesty isclassiccoming from you.” I took an abrupt swig of my drink and turned to her. “When are we going to talk? As in, have arealconversation?” My voice was loud and a little too harsh. I didn’t know what came over me, only that my skin buzzed like an exposed nerve.
Margot blinked. Her berry-colored lips thinned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she scoffed, snapping her attention away as Rachel conveniently returned with her cortado.
